


Just A Shitty Plot Bunny that needs to be Murdered

by Viestrus



Category: Creepypasta - Fandom, Fate/Grand Order
Genre: AU/Canon divergent (?), Crack, Gen, Just these guys for now, Other characters might get added?, Pure Crack, might be ooc from the crack going on, sorta a tribute fic of sorts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:20:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22611658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Viestrus/pseuds/Viestrus
Summary: A.k.a 'author loves these creepy/long pastas so much, and also has an obsession with crossovers', a.k.a 'a dumbass excuse to have Fate characters in a field of pasta creatures'.An odd Singularity shows up that's unlike anything Chaldea's seen, and the solution they came up with is to gather the chillest bastards for gas station duty.Oh, and one Sanson, who's just done with everything.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 14





	1. How did we get here?

**Author's Note:**

> As the summary shows, this is a pure crack fic. I wanted to write cracky shit for once qvq
> 
> This might pan out as just several oneshots, might be one continuous thing, or a merge of both, who knows. Also, credit to all the guys who made the actual pastas and the creatures that came with it! The story will be modeled a lot after those stories too.
> 
> This first chapter derives from Tales of the Gas Station and a bit of Lonely Broadcast Station (104.6 FM).

“Did I ask you to come help me out here?”

“Well _sorry_ for taking the time out to help you out of the literal woods, Mr.Hood.”

Currently, two archers (which is weird, since one has a gun instead of a bow) are out and about, near some woods, and just about as fucked up as you can find them.

One is bloodied, especially on the arm and his tattered green cloak, while the other, blonde, and still clean, wrapped up the arm with a makeshift bandage.

“What even is this Singularity? The whole world should've just imploded from this place alone!”

“ ‘Well Robin, we came out here to find that exact thing out!’ …is what I'd like to say, but to be perfectly honest, one day here is already driving me nuts.”

Meanwhile, near them, the nearby gas station lights blared as dusk kicked in, while the others sent to investigate this oddball Singularity (that, to be honest, can't even be categorized with the others they've been to before) stood by the door, tired, and maybe with a slight toothache.

How did they come upon this situation? Well…

One morning at Chaldea, Robin Hood got called personally by Ritsuka (by now his long time Master) to a meeting. One that called in some others Robin has…familiarized himself with.

Oddly enough, it consisted of a bunch of thrown together people, like they were chosen at random instead of by consideration of any kind.

There was Billy the Kid, short enough that he could kick his legs in the air as he sat on whatever table isn't occupied.

There's David, standing around as he chatted with Da Vinci, and Bartholomew Roberts, who was trying to join in the conversation (and failing, oh so evidently).

Then there's Hektor, acting like the supposed old man he is and letting Fou climb on him, with Mash trying to get the pet off.

Then there's Sanson. Ever-gloomy Charles-Henri-Sanson. You can guess what he was doing.

“So, uh…Master? What's all this for?” Robin asked, gesturing to the others with quite the deadpan look in his eyes. Ritsuka could only chuckle sheepishly at that; Robin's not the only one to roll his eyes at the party the Master had chosen.

“Yeah, did'cha panic or something, Master? This feels a little thrown together, y'know,” Billy commented, hopping off the table as everyone else gathered around.

“Right, well…I have good reason, trust me,” Ritsuka began, as the virtual globe behind them spiraled towards North America, pointing at a map somewhere off the grid of the usual important events. “See, this Singularity is…well…an odd one.”

“Why am I not surprised…” To which Robin got a 'polite' shock to the stomach from Fou.

As the now gagging mess toiled to correct his breathing, Ritsuka continued as if without a care in the world, gesturing to the marker on the map.

“The thing that makes that Singularity odder than the rest is the activity going on in it. They say they couldn't find any Grail activity going on in there…an initial sweep revealed next to nothing.”

Ritsuka shrugs.

“So you want us to go and see for ourselves?” Bartholomew took to continuing. “…You're sure it isn't the equipment malfunctioning somehow?”

“Well, if we let malfunctioning equipment work for us for 10 times straight, we'd fail as humanity's last line of defense, won't we?” Da Vinci replied. There's a pout to her face, like she'd been insulted.

Honestly, it might as well have been an insult. All those equipment were like her children after all!

“Anyway, that's basically what we want you to do for now, confirm whatever activity is going on down there,” the artist reiterated. “The readings don't look like anything too dangerous, but all the same, they look…disturbing.”

“You’re making this sound like a horror show.” David couldn't help a chuckle at the rather exaggerative descriptor. Not that he was overconfident with himself, but what could be weirder than everything they've seen so far?

It could be just another weird rendition of the Grail War courtesy of the Grail and some other odd opposing force, or it might be some completely different sort of magical activity, the likes of which none of them have seen.

But for some reason, looking at the map and the small blimp where the Singularity is, they couldn't help the collective prickling in their gut. Yes, even Sanson.

The old executioner said nothing, but has heard stories of one past expedition Chaldea conducted there. The initial sweep found next to nothing, sure, but the ones sent came back…profoundly disturbed.

The Leyshift was quiet, but with a heavy air about them. Ritsuka had a worried look over his face, and Mash was left in his place to supervise home base.

Only one second before Leyshift started did Robin remember Ritsuka never answered why he decided to send out the team he did.

When he came to, one thing, at least, made some sense.

The area around them is barren, with modern asphalt road stretching far as the eye can see. Near them was an odd, almost abandoned looking building.

Around them, however, were patches of dense woodland.

That part made sense for himself, and maybe David and Hektor, to an extent. For Robin himself, woodlands are his specialty, and Hektor works well for strategies of most terrains, including dense woodlands.

David, well…maybe he herded sheep past some woods? Who knows.

But then there's the problem of Billy, Bartholomew, and Sanson. One was a cowboy, that part made things obvious enough, the other is basically a pirate, more of an expert of the seas than dense woods, and the last guy may as well equate to being a city boy, even if he did have a grizzly job.

So, no, thinking about it again, expertise doesn't exactly make sense.

Then why? He looked back to Ritsuka for some form of an explanation, but saw the others already chasing him as he headed towards the odd building with a large “Gas Station” sign hanging above it.

It didn't take too long for the questions to pile up some more.

“You got us a job?!” They cried, except Sanson, who kept quiet in the background (although his own displeasure at the arrangement is noteworthy enough just by the ominous aura spilling out of him), and David, who was…visibly excited by the prospect.

“Yeah…” Once again, that sheepish expression is back on the poor Master's face, finger scratching meekly at his chin as two station employees watch them in sheer awe.

“Holy fuck, are those guys cosplayers?!” one said, only to have a loaf of bread shoved into his mouth by the other.

“I have to make periodic returns to see how Chaldea is doing,” Ritsuka explained, shoving them a bit out of the two employee's earshot, “Mash will take my place when that happens, which should be tonight here so we can properly set up home base.”

“H-Hold on,” Robin interrupted, forcing his voice to just a slight whisper, “you’re saying all of this like it's completely ordinary! Why—why a job here of all things?”

“Because that's the only way we're going to get access to this place!” Ritsuka whispered back. “I’m not sure why, but people here are aware of this place, if you catch my meaning.”

Well that's strange. The party shared an odd look with one another, then to Sanson, then to the Master.

They're aware?

“Even outside of the Singularity's parameters?” Hektor guessed.

“Yep.”

“Oh.”

Well fuck!

No further questions were asked, only because the now visibly jittery employees impatiently asked them if they could get on with being situated.

It took about a day to explain everything; the register, how several of the machines work, serving customers in the shop and out in the gas pumps, refilling said gas pumps, supply lines, the usual stuff…

…along with some odd stuff like...lawn gnomes in the walls? Flame throwers for hand plants, the cooler for keeping…oddities?

Throughout the whole thing, none of the Servants could ask anything, as they were rushed along, and as soon as the employees finished, they got their coats on, hopped on their truck, and seemingly bolted out of the station.

“Welp, they were in a hurry,” captain obvious Billy stated.

“I'm in a bit of a hurry myself,” Ritsuka quickly said, as he began growing transparent. “Mash will take my place for the night. I'll come back first thing tomorrow morning. See you!” he, even more quickly, said in one breath before the Leyshift took him away into particles of dust.

Meanwhile, all Robin and the rest could do is look dumbfounded.

“So, who's going to take the cash register?”

The rest looked at King David, thinking 'what a fucking quack'.

  
\--

  
The first night spent in the gas station couldn't exactly be called their first day as fresh faced employees. No one came in, after all, and Robin and the others concluded that this gas station isn't exactly the most famous with customers.

Not that they know of any gas station famous with customers.

“I could shop lift here and there wouldn't be any problems,” Billy muttered to himself, holding a pack of toothpaste. “I doubt anyone would care.”

“We’re better off not trying kiddo,” Hektor waved off, inspecting the slushie machine with relatively mild interest. “We’re the fresh faced shop attendants, not thieves, remember that.”

“Roger…”

Bartholomew, meanwhile, disappeared into the bathroom a while ago, and has been in there for a suspiciously long amount of time.

By the time he got out, he was holding the side of his mouth, face shot down in a grimace.

“I didn't know Servants could get toothaches,” David smiled, eyes still on the logbook the shop kept. “Although that does seem like a rather sudden toothache.”

“Happened after I got into that godforsaken bathroom,” Bartholomew all but ripped out of his aching mouth, barely able to speak from the pain. “Also the water tastes like metal, don't drink it.”

“Issue with the piping, maybe?” If that was true, Robin couldn't help but think how lucky it is for Ritsuka to have to make periodic returns to Chaldea, a place with clean, consumable water. 

He might take time out to investigate the pipes. Either way, it'll take a while before that water gets less lethal.

He played around with a barely sharpened pencil that just happened to be lying on the table before a small knock resounded from somewhere in the building.

With a raised brow and curious eyes, he looked about, his left ear tingling as another knock came.

'From in the walls?’ he thought. 'No, the ceiling.’

“Robin?” 

“You guys heard that, right?” said the green Archer as he got up from his seat, “The knocking?”

The rest didn't immediately answer, craning their heads collectively towards the ceiling as their ears strained.

And there it was! The knock again!

Without waiting for an answer, Robin got his chair, set it down below the portion of the ceiling just past the cash register table, proceeds to stand on said chair, and began prodding.

It didn't take even a second to find a patched hole in the ceiling, covered by a thin layer of wood.

'Well, maintenance here sure is shitty,' he thought as he gently lifted the plank of wood.

The others couldn't help a collective yelp (Sanson nearly broke his neck when he looked away from the cabinet holding medical supplies) as a raccoon suddenly shot out of the now open gap, into Robin's face, scratching away and screeching bloody murder as it sent the poor green clad archer tumbling to the hard floor.

“A raccoon!” Bartholomew cried, “what’s a raccoon doing in here?!”

“That ain't no raccoon Roberts, that's a monster!” Billy cried back, looking almost curiously at the raccoon.

And so did David, noting how the raccoon doesn't exactly look like a…well…raccoon.

Oblivious to poor Robin's screams and efforts to pry the damn thing's claws off his face, they all looked on to notice the raccoon had almost bloodshot eyes, it's pupils only a point in it's eyes as the whites were clear for all to see, dyed red with vessels so prominent it looked ready to burst at any second.

It's claws were abnormally long, chapped but thick, it's body scrawny yet possessing strength seemingly compounded only by madness (as mad as a raccoon can get). The only thing making it still resemble a raccoon is the coloration of it's thin, steadily balding fur, it's snout with gnarled teeth, and it's ears and tail.

While the others looked on curiously, Sanson, having recovered from the initial shock of hearing borderline murder happen in the establishment, went over to the flailing Archer, calmly plucked (ripped) the raccoon away from his face, and looked at the others with as much disdain as he could muster.

“Really? Really, all of you?”

They all shrugged.

“It’s a really weird raccoon,” said Hektor.

“What the fuck, all of you!” Robin cried, prying himself off the floor, face now a bloodied, scratched up mess (though the tuft of hair covering his one eye is surprisingly undisturbed), “So just because it's a weird raccoon, you'd let my face get skeletonized?!”

Then he took a better look at the raccoon, quivering, oddly, in Sanson's hold.

“Although, admittedly, that is one weird ass looking raccoon.”

“You say that, now you're making me want to throw the little one at your face again,” Sanson said, a twitch at his left eye and a side of his lips, tugging into that signature smile of his.

Robin raised a defeated hand.

“No thank you.”

So opens the gas station's doors, with Sanson kicking their first “customer” out for assault.  
As he was tending to Robin's wounds a moment afterwards, David suddenly broke the silence that begun to envelop the room once again.

“In-breeding! That's the word I was looking for!”

“What?” Billy shot back.

“That raccoon!” David clarified. “They look like they've been inbred to submission.”

As Mash Leyshifted into the room, a look of surprise came upon Robin's face as it dawned on him; the reason why Ritsuka arranged the team he did.

These people are so chill they're borderline batshit insane!

But wait, then why is Sanson here?

“You think of me as a deranged killer, but I'm probably one of the more sane ones out of all of you,” Sanson explained, dabbing antiseptic on the scratch on Robin's cheek (even if the treatment wasn't exactly needed).

“…You read my fucking mind…”

“It’s easy to tell with how you looked at me,” the executioner deadpanned.

“So…where can I set up?” Mash asked the crowd.

  
\--

  
“Commencing, Round Table!”

In the cooler, Mash kneels on the floor, shield laid like a…well table, lighting up the room in a faint, blue hue.

Once the procedure was finished, the Shielder let out a sigh.

“There, done. So, what exactly happened?” she asked, shooting straight to the point. “Robin Hood looked a little…”

“Banged up?” Bartholomew, who had taken it upon himself to lead Mash to the cooler, guessed. “A nasty piece of work of a raccoon came in here and assaulted him,” he explained simply.

“A…raccoon…?”

“A raccoon.”

“Alright…” Mash had heard from both Ritsuka and Da Vinci of the weirdness the one other expedition sent here found. There were…many, most of which amounted to simply experience with no real backing to it, but that raccoon did match up with one of the accounts she's heard.

“They say around this area, there's a family of odd animals,” Mash began, recalling what she's heard. “I think a description I heard matches something like a raccoon…”

“Oh yeah?” Bartholomew hummed to himself, tapping his chin in thought. “Was that from the one expedition that came here?”

Mash nods. “Yes, Okada Izou and a few others.”

‘They sent Okada to do recon work…?’

Meanwhile, outside, David's eyes are still on the logbook the shop kept.

“Huh…not that many people pass by these roads it seems…”

“How'd you figure?” Billy asks, “It's America, and even in modern day this place is still pretty huge and empty. All roads would probably feel about the same.”

“That’s true,” David replied, “But I'm sure if this place saw enough customers they'd have enough money for at least proper maintenance.”

“You got me there….” Leaning back on what was once Robin's seat (before he went outside for a _much_ needed smoke), his eyes rolled about the whole area, mildly scrutinizing details that he found.

Now that the shock of the raccoon attack had finally been swept completely under the rug, Billy finally had time to examine the place properly. Back in his day, lumber would be used to make most buildings; simple, easy to procure, and sturdy enough with proper insulation from the sun.

In modern day though, he'd figure they'd use materials similar to what's used in Chaldea.   
So there's one odd thing there.

Another would be the forest in the back. He got a peculiar feeling from that direction specifically, but a closer inspection is needed.

Also, there’s the odd lawn gnome next to the slushie machine.

“…Wait, did someone leave a lawn gnome there?!” Billy all but cried, nearly falling out of his chair as he fumbled to straighten himself up and turn properly towards the mystery, green gnome.

“Lawn gnome?” They all turned as Mash and Bartholomew exited the cooler, a confused look clear as day on her face.

Hektor, meanwhile, fell quiet for a moment, before sighing and scratching his head.

“Oh…is this what they were talking about? The mysterious lawn gnomes that appear out of nowhere?”

“I think so,” David replied, not paying any mind to the increasingly confused look on Mash's face.

“Leave them to it,” whispered Bartholomew, “even I don't get how they could be so nonchalant about all this.”

“A…alright…”

“They said to just store them somewhere, right?” Hektor asked as he walked towards the lone, green, and oddly evil looking gnome. A nod came from David once again, but the Lancer didn't spare a glance.

Instead, remembering one detail from the past employee about how these gnomes rewarded them with multiple stitches on their fingers, he reached out and tried to pick it up with his armored hand.

Only to have the gnome's sharp, pointed teeth pierce through, almost completely disregarding it.

“…Ow…”

“That’s all you have to say?! 'Ow'?!” Mash cried, rushing over to the bitten Lancer in clear panic. Her eyes caught a trickle of blood leak from the hole in the metal.

“Well, I mean…I want to scream, but I'm afraid that might attract more of them…”

Outside, Hektor could practically hear the long, agonized sigh courtesy of Sanson.

Oh wait, it really was that loud. And this place has poor soundproofing to begin with anyway.

“What—a-anyway, we need to get this thing off!” Mash said, as she tries to pry the gnome off of the poor bitten finger, only to send Hektor reeling into several expressions that could only be described as “wincing so goddamn hard because his appendage feels like it's going to pop off at any second”.

“No—Mash—ow—n-not like that, the jaw! Pull on the jaw!”

“Oh…” When she tried it, it's as if the demonic lawn gnome had turned back into that; a lawn gnome. The mouth had gone so lax that all she needed to do was tug at it lightly for the mouth to fall open.

“Sort of like a marionette's mouth…,” Mash observed, wincing a little at the specks of blood riddling the gnome's mouth and teeth.

Wait, so it still keeps the teeth then? Shit.

Raising the gnome a bit by the back, Mash asks, “So…do we put this in a box or something?”

“Yeah, that's what I heard them say we do,” said Hektor. “They’ll just keep coming, from what the employees here told us and even they don't know where these guys come from—”

A scream interrupts him as the gnome suddenly sprang back to life, leaping (god knows how) towards a screaming Mash who was about to get her shield ready when—

_BANG!_

“The fuck is going on in here?!” Robin cried as he stormed into the room, only to find Billy, propped up by the knees on the chair, sheepishly holding his Noble Phantasm of a gun, having just shot the gnome to pieces and splattering both Mash and Hektor with red.

Robin could only blink at the scene.

“…Did that lawn gnome have blood in it?”

“Yeah, looked like it,” Billy answered in the most nonchalant way possible while still aiming his gun.

“Um…” Mash couldn't help but look at her bloodied hands (the liquid did smell a whole lot like fresh blood), with a worried expression. “I’m…confused…and honestly a little scared at the same time…”

Hektor sighs. “Don’t worry Mash, you're not the only one.”

“If you want to clean the blood off, the bathroom's open for use,” Bartholomew informed out of nowhere. “Although the water does still taste like metal so…hope you didn't get any lawn gnome blood in your mouth.”

At the same time, Hektor couldn't help the faint, clingy taste of metal on his tongue.

All that is an indicator of the Lancer having swallowed a bit of the blood is how crestfallen his expression suddenly became.

“And by the way,” Billy began, turning to Robin as he stowed his gun away like nothing ever happened, “how’d you know it was a lawn gnome I shot there?”

“How the hell wouldn't I?” Robin deadpanned, “You scream like a bitch, Billy.”

All Billy the Kid did is laugh, but he did feel a twinge at his gun hand to reach for his gun.

  
\--

  
After the gnome and raccoon incidents, the night came and went with surprising ease. Sure, there was banging on the wall, and at times they did feel like they were being watched from outside, but even with just their normal experiences on the field, hey, what's new?

Oddly, the shaken Mash managed to get some sleep, the rest of the group having divided themselves to keep watch at hours of the night.  
Bartholomew, of course, spent most of his hours nursing his toothache.

Then the sun rose. Mash switched places with Ritsuka in the early morning, warning him about demonic gnomes and the metal tasting water, and Ritsuka, upon exiting the cooler (why did they set base up specifically in the cooler anyway, he thinks), noticed two people missing.

“…You smoke?”

Outside, by the small landing near the gas station's front doors, sat Robin, looking curiously at Sanson who was…smoking?

“What even is that?” Robin asked, blowing the smoke from his own roll of tobacco. The device in Sanson's hand caught his interest, equally as the sweet scent that came from the smoke rising from the box like compartment.

Inserting the small tube into his mouth and pressing the small button on it, the executioner took another drag.

“I’m not sure. Something called a 'vape'? The employees here left it. Forgot, presumably.”

The Archer's eyes trailed the heavy amount of smoke floating to the air with mild interest. Blowing his own smoke from his nose, he shrugs, pinning his roll of tobacco with his two fingers and gesturing to the box-like device with it.

“Just from the smoke alone, you know that's worse than regular smoking right?”

Sanson, in proper “I am done with all this bullshit” fashion, takes a long, long drag, and blows all that smoke out in what could only be said as a long, very, exasperated sigh.

Again, Robin Hood merely shrugs.

“Whatever helps, then.”

Once the sun properly rose to the skies, the group set about cleaning the store, like any proper employee should. 

Once they were done with that, Ritsuka gathered them around for a report of the night prior, and to make plans for what to do today.

“…Mystery, biting lawn gnomes and a crazy, berserker class raccoon—y-y’know what, I'm honestly not all that surprised.”

“Really?” David asked, “did the last expedition team see the same thing?”

“Not exactly,” Ritsuka said, “but I did say we found next to nothing the last time we were here. The general weirdness all around was the only thing we managed to find.”

“Right…so, what should we do today then?” Billy, this time, asks. “Maybe the forest in the back?”

“Well, the previous employees said that traffic comes in pretty heavy here around daylight,” said the Master as he flipped through a small notebook, “meaning that at most, during these hours we can only send two people out, and the rest will stay to maintain the shop and whatever supplies are being delivered.”

“We’ll only be able to do proper explorations of the forest area at night, and that goes for the rest of the area too.”

Apparently, what the Master meant by 'heavy traffic' is just one or two customers every now and then.

“Welcome! How may I help you?”

Just about every customer that looked at David (who volunteered to man the cash register), looked at him with…curious eyes.

And how wouldn't they? In front of them is a man with green hair, which is striking enough as it is (and it's the natural color too!), And very, very revealing clothing (and very, very tiny shorts to boot).

Still, the amiable attitude presented by the old King appeased those weirded out customers, enough to get them to tend to their needs and be on their way.

Even Bartholomew had to commend him.

“You should think about working here permanently. Feels like a better gig than the Throne,” said Bartholomew during one of the many low hours of their whole day shift, toothache finally gone.

“I might…” David toyed with the idea for a but a moment, though. “Though I prefer fields and sheep to this.”

Meanwhile, in the forest, Robin wiped out another bead of sweat running down his brow.

“Well…didn't think it'd be this hard breathing in the forest.”

The stifling, humid and oddly heated air of the forest tempts him to no end to take off his cloak, the hood at the very least.

'Yeah. Like hell.’

The need to be a recluse wins out in the end, but even he wonders how long it'll last.

Billy the Kid is no different, except in his case, he had no problem taking off his jacket and vest, leaving only his white shirt and belted pants and boots. 

“I’ve been in forests before…! It was never this hard to breathe in it…” he whined, before turning to Ritsuka, who was well…pale as a ghost by this point.

“You sure you're alright, master? We could go back, the air might be a bit better when the sun goes down. At least the temperature might…”

“I’m…I'm fine, I'm fine!” The Master reassured, though it honestly feels like his vessels are getting clogged from how much water his body's sweated out.

And yes everyone, poor Ritsuka didn't bring a single bottle of water with him.

“Doesn't look like there's much past here,” said Hektor who had volunteered to scout just a bit further, a sweating sack of flesh by this point sure, but looking none the worse for wear. “Just trees and more trees.”

‘That guy's a monster…,' thought all three.

“Really…” By this point, poor Ritsuka was already leaning heavily on a tree bark, lungs expanding greatly for air. “The past expedition…said something about this forest being oddly active…”

“With weirdness?” Billy asks, to which the Master nodded.

Behind his hood, Robin's eyes scanned about the forest. Lucky that Archers essentially get a boost to their vision; even a dense thicket like doesn't pose as much an issue for him to scout as it normally would for most others.

That being said, his vision is exactly what disturbs him. For all he's sensing, not one thing aside from trees and more trees, as Hektor reported, could be seen. A few bugs crawling on the tree barks close by, some stray rabbits or other small animals maybe, but nothing like that monster, bastard, face mauling raccoon, and certainly nothing much worse.

'This place is too alive,' he thought. ‘Too much noise, or…no, too little noise.’

That part, everyone's probably noticed. Before a vine went and tied itself to Ritsuka's ankles, sending him screaming as he got pulled up the tree lines.

“So, you're new here?”

Sanson merely nods, as the person delivering the station's stock of petrol shook on his knees. ‘This guy's way too imposing…don't slit my throat where I stand, I have kids…! And a wife, even if she is a…bitch.’

“You seriously think I'm going to behead you now?”

'Why specifically beheading--?!’

Once again, Sanson sighs.

“The tank is here. You probably know that, though.”

As Sanson helps the still fearful employee store the fuel, his eyes caught sight of an odd flock of birds, fleeing from somewhere rather deep in the tree lines.

If he was as explosive with curses as Robin and some others are, he'd probably spit out, right there and then, 'bloody fucking hell, not again.’

“Master!”

“Help me, I think this whole forest wants to eat us!”

Alright, there's the gnomes, and the raccoon, and Robin and co could completely understand those, or at least tolerate the fact of such illogical entities because even magic can't make bullshit the kind this place has managed to spout.

But this? The forest literally attacking them with growths so rapid but without any sort of magic or such involved?

Yeah, no. No, this place is so outside the realm of even magic related logic, their heads feel like it's about to implode just thinking about it.

Loading his crossbow with another bolt, Robin fired at the vine dragging the Master away. Lucky that Ritsuka had a shiv on hand just in case, but after a bit of cutting, the poor boy got knocked against a tree bark (the vine looked like it purposefully knocked him on it?), and now the shiv is lost to the forest.

The bolt, once again, missed.

The Archer could only click his tongue as he continued to chase from within the tree line.

Billy, meanwhile, raced from the ground, his other gun out (Thunderer is precious mind you, and might not work well for this kind of terrain), along with Hektor, matching him for speed despite having to lug that huge spear around.

Ritsuka, meanwhile, rummaged his pockets for anything he could weaponize while being flailed around by the vine so hard it feels like his spine is about to snap in half.

Nada. Zilch.

‘Why--?!’

Sadly, even his equipped Mystic Code proves a bit useless since it only allows him to act as support for his Servants.

Another bolt shot towards the vine, Ritsuka being sent upwards as the vine seemingly dodged the arrow, knocking his face hard against a protruding, thick tree branch and running his face against it like sandpaper.

“Ah! Durindana!”

“What?!” Hektor shot back, both still on the vine's tail, “You want me to hurl my spear at it? Even if I did, I don't think it'll cut through!”

At least, to Hektor's knowledge, this place doesn't seem to obey most existing laws. Best to think that way than risk a bet on a Noble Phantasm that might be rendered useless.

“No, silly, I want you to use Durindana to pin it! And then Robin could explode the vine with his crossbow!”

“Great plan, I'll commend you for it kid,” said Hektor once again, “but, unless that time you rutted up against Robin like a hoe was to steal an actual vial of the yew poison, I don't exactly have my spear coated with the stuff.”

To which Billy, with a dumbass grin, fished out that exact vial.

For a moment, it's as if the whole scene had stopped.

“You thieving little shit!” Robin cried, pointing an accusatory finger, briefly, towards Billy, who was wearing a very shit eating grin.

“Well, you should've known better,” the gunner mockingly pointed out. “Anyway, lucky huh? Here you go!”

Hektor caught the small vial thrown at him, inside it just the appropriate amount of toxin to coat his whole blade with. Popping the cork on the bottle open, he does just that.

It's a surprisingly translucent liquid. No wonder he never actually sees anything dripping from Robin's bolts, but then again, this poison extract and what's on the Archer's bow might be made in different ways.

“Remind me to keep a close watch on those sticky fingers of yours,” said Hektor as he stopped, took aim, and hurled the spear just as planned.

This time it hit, and Billy had to wonder if he should be careful from now on of that armored hand, having hurled the spear as quick as it did.

A bit of air was knocked out of the poor Master's stomach as he smacked hard against the tree bark the vine became pinned against. With it still clinging to him though, all Ritsuka could do is hang helplessly, struggle a little, maybe, for the part of his clothes in the vine's clutches to rip off.

Damn Da Vinci for making these so durable!

Robin quickly came up near the Master, scaling the trees with ease and firing his detonator round on the vine close to where the spear struck.

The vine exploded, ripping in half in a purple cloud and with a cheer from an excited Billy.

“Yes! You know, it's always so cool watching all that poison scatter like that.”

“Don’t go serial killer on us, Billy,” said Robin as he landed near the two, Durindana and the Master both clattering to the ground.

“Ow…”

The three rushed over to their scrapped and sandpaper'd, but otherwise relatively ok Master. “Are you—”

Before Hektor could finish his sentence, a loud boom resounded in the forest. Then another. And another.

When all four turned to look at the direction the booming is coming from, they found it to not be bombs, but steps. Gigantic steps. So gigantic, that the moment whatever it is those steps belonged to reared it's head, even if the size isn't exactly titanic and doesn't cross past the tree line, it's shadow still managed to loom over the surrounding area.

The snout, which looked like an elk's or deer's, huffed hot air, snapping and writhing sounds faintly coming from in it as the scent of blood and rot practically oozed forth in it's intensity, and from what the group could see, a few things wriggled out of it's neck.

…Are those human hands?!

“What is that?!” Billy cried. “Ugh, and it smells like a dead man's camp after baking for a bit under the sun…!”

“Don’t compare it to that!” Ritsuka cried back.

Stepping towards his spear, Hektor picks it up. “We should probably run.”

“Yep,” Robin nods.

“You two should probably lure it while I get Master back to the gas station.”

The two blinked, so dumbfounded they couldn't even react.

“I got a broken rib from tripping hard earlier, you see.” To which Hektor picked the Master up, and bolted, visibly wincing as he wasn't lying about the broken rib.

Still, the two Archers stared.

The elk…thing…huffed.

“…Fuck you, Hektor!”

“…So that's what happened…”

Hektor nods, helping Sanson with the cast being applied to his leg. David, who had been sitting by the cash register after Ritsuka offered to pick the now battered Archers up, nods with interest.

“So…intelligent vines and a monster elk, eh? Things just keep getting more interesting around here…”

Sanson merely stays quiet, concentrating on treatment of the leg, and Bartholomew counts up the logbook.

They had all looked on as dusk came and the two Archers finally tumbled out of the forest some distance away from the gas station (apparently, escaping from a demonic elk thing takes you on many detours), and when Ritsuka offered to pick them up, the rest went 'alright, we'll take care of things here, then'.

The glass doors to the station was kicked open just as Sanson finished applying the last of the bandages. Past it are a very displeased looking Billy, and Robin, and one very sheepish looking Ritsuka.

Both Archers flashed their middle fingers at the Lancer.

“Seriously. Fuck. You. Hektor.”

The only thing Hektor replied with was a sheepish laugh as he points at the cast around his leg. “Did I forget to mention the broken leg?”

“You ran on a broken leg?!” both cried.

“A fractured fibula, specifically,” Sanson added in the flattest tone he could manage, “and a few other stress fractures here and there.”

Lucky that they're Servants.

“…You shouldn't even be able to stand…,” Robin pointed out.

“No, I didn't run the whole way on a broken leg,” Hektor pointed out, “that happened after I tripped again in the forest.”

“You’ve been tripping a lot.”

“What can I say?” Hektor shrugs. “Guess the forest really hates me. It's also why I wanted you guys to lure that elk…deer…whatever thing away.”

“By the way, hope Billy didn't steal anything else while you two were running.”

The two could only blink at him.

'This guy really is a fucking monster...'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And yeah, I do plan to write these guys to just devolve into crack heads (not literally).
> 
> The Durindana thing, basically, Np's here keep their basic use, just looses it's ranking and most of it's destructive power. Since Yew Bow is more utility based with how it works, I figured detonation using the same logic as bombs still works. Plus it looks cool.
> 
> I'm not too well versed in the Fate-verse, so if anything's wrong here even by crack standards, please tell me qvq
> 
> Also, if you want more to be added in the pasta forest, tell me and maybe the creepypasta that comes with it too~


	2. The One and Only Bathroom Cowboy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The bathroom cowboy is from the Tales of the Gas Station~ and I completely failed to write him.
> 
> Also I wanted to try writing Bartholomew. I feel like I failed to do him justice.

“Agh, not again…”

Once again, Bartholomew had caught a toothache.

While nursing it with some medicine Sanson gave him (that guy may have been an actual doctor in life as a side profession, but he's practically playing mother goose at this point, the pirate thought to himself), Bartholomew couldn't help but take notice of the frequency the toothaches came in.

Is it a curse that's been applied to this place, a toothache inducing curse? Is it just the original constructor's way of being an ass? Was the one who made this building even a mage to begin with?

And why is he the only one to catch all these toothaches?!

“You’re ok, bud.”

The pirate froze. 

He is alone in this bathroom, right?

Doing a quick check in his head, he nods to himself. David is asleep out back near the forest lines with Hektor, who's still awake as a scout, while Sanson doubled as a watch from inside the shop and late night cash register attendant in case of any late night visitors.

And Robin and Billy are knocked out in the cooler.

The sound of scraping metal stole away all of his attention. Slowly, he turns towards the direction of the sound.

He _should_ be alone, right?

Apparently no, he's not. In the corner of the bathroom, is a man who looked like he came right out of Billy's era of all things, a tattered hat casting a shadow over his old features, with pants and a belt and a pair of boots being the only thing he wore. Odd splotches of faded red adorned his jeans, and where the hell did that grinder come from?!

Wait, he's grinding an axe!

Bartholomew's hand brushed against the holster for his two guns, ready to draw, when he realized the man…cowboy? Yeah, he didn't move at all.

He's sure the odd man would've recognized the threat, but no, he's just sitting there, milling away at his axe, humming a calm tune under his breath.

Again, where the hell did that grinder come from?

“You’re ok, bud,” the figure said once again, “yer alright.”

“What is up with you…?” However, Bartholomew felt his shoulders relax, his hands pulling away from his gun. It didn't look like the guy had any interest in fighting.

Though, just in case… 

He turned back to the mirror, gun still at the ready on his holster, and muscles feeling tense like a frayed cheetah. 

Throughout the rest of his session nursing his toothache, the odd cowboy man continued to mill about harmlessly, lasting long enough that, honestly, he should've gone past sharpening the axe and just skipped over to grinding down on it completely, taking off length.

To this, Bartholomew heaved a heavy sigh (sending him wincing afterwards because _fuck_ toothaches).

“Listen, if you want to have a chat, then can I ask something?” he began. “Was the person who made this place a magus? Someone well versed enough in magecraft that he could somehow conceal whatever signatures come off of here and the surrounding area?”

No response.

“…Well…?”

“…Look around, friend,” the cowboy responded simply.

Well that wasn't helpful. Bartholomew wanted to heave another sigh, but just drawing in one breath already stung his mouth.

“Agh! Fucking toothache…!”

The cowboy didn't stop milling his axe (had he just changed to another axe?), but there was some change to the air about him, like his ears were flapping open, no longer just idly listening to what's around him.

“It's this damn toothache, that's why I asked about the person who made this place,” Bartholomew, in a pained and annoyed haze, began, “and just the general weirdness in this place too! How in the world did they even let a raccoon in here? And I still don't get what happened outside with Robin and Billy, it's almost like they're saying the forest is one gigantic life form!”

The night continued on with many a story to tell, and Sanson couldn't help but catch the sounds of chatter coming from the dingy bathroom.

He decided to let Bartholomew be, presumably to bask in his own growing insanity (to which Sanson couldn't blame him in the least, he feels the same, after all), and nearly nodded off by the cash register table just from sheer boredom.

David came in just as dawn broke, greeted by no roosters or even the passing noise of stray vehicles or backpackers, only the cold wind and faint warmth of the sun.

“Ah, were you up all night?” David asked, spotting Sanson still there at the cash register. “Sorry, I guess I slept too long…”

“Hektor’s at least still keeping watch outside, right?” David nods, hand going to open the bathroom door when Bartholomew beat him to the punch, almost slamming it open with mild shock on his face.

“…Why do I feel like I just found ourselves a guidance counselor?”

“A what?”


	3. The one With Hoes and Stinky Meats

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The meat vendor guy is from the Tales of the Gas Station~ although I'm not sure the actual guy smells as bad.
> 
> Also, the girl is just a random customer. I wanted to write a semi-savage David. Not sure how well I did qvq

“Good day sir!”

It was the...honestly, they already lost count of how long they've been stationed in this Singularity, even if they know it hasn't been _that_ long.

And King David. _Hoo boy_ , King David, has grown so adept at handling customers in that seemingly short amount of time.

It's like the moment a customer comes in, he gets a smile (from god knows where) plastered with the strongest of power glue on his face, and the second half of his brain works for hospitality's sake only.

And everyone leaves satisfied! He hasn't failed _once_!

Yes, even in those weirdly tiny shorts of his.

“How?!”

“Hm?” David turns to Robin, who, along with Billy (and maybe Sanson in the back? Although he looked more curious than anything) looked at him with the most dumbfounded look on their faces. “How do I what?”

“You’re almost a machine when manning the cash register, you do realize that, right?” said Billy. “It’s like you got no soul in you other than for customer service!”

“Is it really that shocking?” At this, David shrugs. “It’s no different than managing a country. Actually, it's a lot more relaxing.”

“This is relaxing to you?” said Robin, “This shit gives me heart attacks worse than when dealing with that damned forest in the back.”

“Really?” David looked at them with the purest kind of confusion a person could ever muster, “But they all seem so nice…”

‘Nice my ass!’ Robin thought, going back to the times where he had to manage the register (a very specific set of circumstances would have to line up to get him to do this). Let's just say, getting spat on the face by screaming customers screeching so bad at his unique brand of sarcasm that saliva spewed from their mouths was a very regular occurrence.

Even Sanson handled things better than he did. Then again, executioners do have that aura about them.

…Shit, maybe he should practice having the same kind of charisma, with being a ranger and all.

“Robin?”

The Archer blinked as David snapped his fingers in front of him, gesturing to the female customer behind him.

“You alright there? You're oddly focused on that lady there.”

“Wha—I wasn't staring!”

“Yeah right, you goddamn perv!” the customer cried. 

“Fine!” Robin spat back, spinning in his chair to look away from her (and her steadily reddening skin from sheer annoyance). “See? I ain't lookin' at you anymore.”

“Fucking—”

“Now now, miss,” said David, attempting to diffuse, “my friend here may be a bit rude, but he wouldn't be that rude. He was just thinking about something just now, that's all.”

And without missing a beat, he immediately counts up her prices. “That will be $5.99. Is there anything else you need?”

Still a bit miffed, but having fallen victim to the cash register's signature brand of hospitality, the woman sighs, exchanges the money for her pack of cigarettes and got her change.

Considering it was time for David to change shifts with Bartholomew, he went outside with the woman to fetch the pirate.

Once outside, the woman lights up a smoke, and it's almost like a switch went off in her head…

“Y’know, that gingerhead might've been an ass, but you ain't half bad, green boy.”

She saunters up to him a little, semi-twirling her cigarette between her index and middle fingers.“There’s a town nearby, wanna hang out there tonight? This whole place is a dump, you must be bored as hell.”

“I’m sorry miss, but tonight's a busy night,” David said immediately, one hand in the air and a cheeky, yet still polite grin on his face.

“And besides, I'm not for sale, either!”

“Fuck you!”

_SLAP!_

And therein was David's first (albeit on purpose) failure in customer service.

He's still smiling as his cheeks reddened with what looked to be a handprint, the woman storming off in a blaze of ire.

Meanwhile, Bartholomew, who had been watching it unfold from a seat nearby (along with Sanson who was keeping watch up front), whistled at the sight.

“Oof, wouldn’t you say that was too much of a burn? You could be more of an ass than Robin sometimes with that tongue of yours.”

“Hm?” once again, David shrugs, like the innocent shepherd he is. “I was just saying it like it is.”

“We all know you knew what you were doing.”

All of a sudden, Sanson threw an ice pack at David (where the hell did he fish out an ice pack from?!), pointing to his own cheek.

“Ooh…thanks!” After which, David put the ice pack on the handprint on his cheek.

“Mother hen strikes once again,” Bartholomew chuckles.

“Say that one more time and I will find one of those face mauling raccoons for you.”

  
\--

  
The clock hit 2pm and the Master, Hektor, and Billy (who went off to search for them) are still in the forest.

Meanwhile, David sits by the cash register, filling up the logbook while nursing his now somewhat swollen cheek.

Robin looked at him with almost a 'tut' to his expression. ‘You’re an ass', he mouthed.

“Well I'm sorry for implying that in front of her!” David cried in his own defense. “She was starting to act that way, what other impression could that have given me?”

“Good point,” Robin shrugs. “Remind me to take notes from you.”

“How to get slapped so hard your cheeks swell?”

“No, how to be an ass under the guise of politeness,” Robin corrected. “Might come in handy.”

Before David could resume the banter, a man came in, immediately filling the room with the smell of barnyard shit. A smell so bad it sent even Servants reeling.

“Oh—shit—” Robin scrunched up his nose, but on the off-chance that covering his nose to avoid the scent would piss off the man carrying a cooler around with him, the Archer manned up, and fought the urge to just retch right there and then.

“Uh—sorry, um, sir, we're gonna have to ask you to leave—” Shit, bad move, bad move—

“N-now now, hold on boy,” said the shit stinking man, holding a hand up, “I just came by to tell ya'll newbies here, I got ya a good deal on ground meats.”

“Ground meats?” David asks. “I'm sorry, but we don't really use those—”

“Settle down, settle down!” said the vendor, strolling to the cash register, smiling a toothy grin that seemed friendly enough. 

A toothy grin with rancid breaths coming out and holes on said teeth, thick with cavities.

By this point, even the two Archers were starting to feel faint.

“Tell ya what, I'll give ya a sampler. Then ya can come back to me and tell me what'cha think.” Without so much as considering whether the people in front of him even wanted a sampler of the meats, the vendor grabbed some plastic, before scooping up about a few hundred grams of meat into it from the cooler before placing it on the table in front of them.

“Welp, see ya! Remember to tell me what'cha think!” 

Then he went off, leaving behind an odor the two needed to air out asap.

“Um…I'll go ahead and put this in the cooler, then…” said David as he got the meat, walking off towards the cooler in a confused daze, the same as Robin when he went to open whatever windows he could and the glass doors to air out the shop.

But, wait a second…

Abruptly, Robin sped towards the window nearest to the direction where the meat vendor headed off too.

'How the hell did he know we were new here?!’


End file.
